Beth
by the.blue.dinosaur
Summary: It's Christmastime, and Quinn misses her baby. She calls Puck, and he helps her as best he can.


**A/N: Okay, another Glee story. Cool.**

**I don't know where this came from, especially considering that this is a Christmas story and it's decidedly not Christmastime. Either way, though, I hope you enjoy it! It's the one thing that's been nagging at me, the lack of mention of Beth, and I hope I've given a bit of that plausibly.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee. (:**

His phone rings, and as soon as he sees who it is, he doesn't hesitate to answer.

"Quinn?"

Her voice is muffled and thick. "Puck? I need you."

"Of course." He sets down his guitar, leaning forward to grab a jacket. "Where?"

There's a beat of silence, and then – "Can you come over? To my house?"

He closes his eyes and says, "Of course. Be there in twenty."

She's waiting on her porch, dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt. He can't help but be thankful she's not in that stupid Cheerio's outfit.

He sits down next to her and takes her hand. "Hey. You okay?"

"It's almost Christmas," she tells him.

He nods, and rubs his thumb over her palm. "I know."

"It's her first Christmas."

Such a small sentence, and yet he feels a tightening in his chest, and something resembling tears in his eyes. _Don't cry._ He looks away and clears his throat.

She leans her head on his shoulder, and he feels a wetness there. He squeezes his eyes shut and brings his arms up to wrap around her, pull her into his lap. There's nothing sexual here; he wants to comfort her, needs to comfort her. She's been so strong, this year, barely mentioning anything from the previous year, but he knows it's had to have been killing her inside.

"It's her first Christmas and I won't get to see it." Her words have tears caught in them but he's pretty sure he knows what she's saying. "My Beth…"

He doesn't hold it in any longer, and cries just a few tears, resting his head on top of hers.

"I want to be there for her. I want to see her… but I'm afraid that if I do I'll only regret it more. I'm so sorry." She whispers the last sentence, and he pulls away to look at her.

"For what?"

She sniffles. "For taking your daughter away from you. I had no… it wasn't only my decision."

Puck's eyes shut again, and he pulls her closer than before. _She's right._ "No. It wasn't."

She lets out a half-sob, and his arms tighten.

"But you did what anyone in your position would have done. And I wouldn't have – I'm not father material, sweetie."

The term of endearment's rolled off his tongue before he has time to think, and he winces but she doesn't say anything.

"And it would have been hard to take care of her from jail." He laughs a little but she doesn't, and he can nearly see the expression that's got to be on her face.

"I haven't thanked Mercedes." When she says it, the world goes silent around them. "She gave me everything – she gave Beth everything." Her hands knot together. "I haven't thanked her, and she deserves it so much." She swallows again. "I wonder how she's doing," she finally whispers, and he knows she's talking about Beth. "I wonder what she's like. Has she – can she walk?" She breathes in, slowly. "If I saw her, I would know her instantly. But she wouldn't know me. She's never going to know me."

Puck doesn't know what to say – he's sure that whatever he _does_ say will be inconsiderate because he is who he is and she is who she is. And so he kisses her on the head again, and that's really all he can do.

"I never thanked you, either." She swallows.

"You don't need to thank me. It... it was all my fault." He has to cough, to clear his throat and get his mind away from that night.

She looks up at him. "Having my daughter was the best thing that could have happened to me. I know… I know I didn't keep her and I know it might have been better if I would have but it taught –" she cuts herself off. "it taught me everything, and I threw it away." She wipes at her eyes but she's really crying now, crying out the anger and the frustration and the sadness, the longing for a life she _could have_ led. "I could have had Beth. You."

For a moment, he's not sure he's heard her correctly. And then she stiffens in his arms, and he's sure he has.

He takes a moment to rub her arms, to get her to relax, and then he gives her a kiss on the forehead. "You're sad and I'm not taking advantage of that," he says, and he's trying to stamp down the thoughts he's having because this is Quinn's moment, and he can miss his daughter when she's not hurting so much, "but I want you to know that I love you. I've loved you forever, Quinn."

She smiles at him, and it's the first time he's seen her really smile in a long time.

He leads her upstairs by the hand, grabs his phone and a few buttons pressed later, he's on the phone.

"Shelby? It's… Puck. Yes, that Puck." He swallows. "Quinn's… she's hurting. Do you think… can she talk to you?"

There's a murmur of assent, and Quinn breathes in and out slowly before taking the phone.

"Shelby? How's Beth?" A speech follows, and tears are rolling down Quinn's face but she's smiling. Then her face freezes, and a look of panic appears. "I don't know – I'd love to, but…" She trails off, and sits down on her bed. Puck sits behind her, takes her ponytail down and runs a hand through her hair, trying to calm her down. Her breathing's quick and she looks ready to pass out.

Puck takes the phone from her and puts it on mute, uncaring of the person on the other line. Shelby will wait for them, he knows it.

"Do you want to see her?"

Quinn's hands wring together. And then, finally, "Yes."

Puck hands her the phone again, and there's hope in her voice when she speaks.

"If you're willing to let me, yes. I'd love to see my daughter."


End file.
